Counting Your Face Among The Living
by holyrustedmetalbandanaman
Summary: Everything's going perfectly for the band. They've had several number one hit singles, they've been in the top ten of the Billboard charts, they've won awards, and their fan base is bigger than ever. But what happens when disaster strikes? Set at age 23.
1. Letting Go of Your Dreams  Prologue

_It had been an accident. He hadn't seen the coral until it was too late, and by the time he could register what was occurring, his head had already made contact with the jagged edges. He'd tried to locate his surf board, because he'd thought that if he could climb on top of it, he could simply lay down on it as it took him to shore. He'd spotted his board several feet away, but he hadn't had the strength to swim towards it. Instead, he'd remained where he was, wading in the water, and quickly glancing around him. He'd tried to yell out; he'd screamed for help, but no one had heard his cries. It was after he'd been in the water for a few moments that he'd finally decided to attempt to swim to shore. It seemed that his legs and arms were made of jelly, and he couldn't get them to do what he wanted them so desperately to do. He couldn't get his very limbs – the things that had never once failed him – to help save his life._

It was then that it occurred to him that perhaps if he could force himself to roll over so that he was lying on his back, he could then float towards safety. He tried several times to make this happen, but his brain wasn't able to register what he was trying to do. The repeated action of attempting to rotate his body caused even more of his strength to evaporate. He refused to give up, though. No, he'd never quit anything in the twenty-three years that he'd been living, and he wasn't going to start. Although his mind was completely on board, his body wasn't listening, and no matter what he did, he couldn't force his limbs to cooperate.

He couldn't breathe. His lungs were slowly filling with water, and he found himself sinking beneath the tide. All of his strength had completely seeped from him, and he could no longer keep his eyes open. He was dying; he was being drowned by the one element that he'd always adored – the water. It wasn't supposed to be this way. He'd been surfing, which was definitely nothing new to him. He'd grown up surfing, and he'd always loved the water. Now the thing that he loved was killing him, draining his life force from him. He slipped into unconsciousness as the black tendrils of death snaked around his waist, pulling him even further under the water.


	2. Without You Is How I Disappear

James awoke with a start, his body drenched in a cold sweat. He glanced around his apartment bedroom to verify that he wasn't actually in the water, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that he was safe. He sank back down into his bed and pulled the covers around himself, burying his face in the darkness that the covers created. That wasn't the first time that he'd had that nightmare, and he knew that it wouldn't be the last.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight as tears escaped his caramel-colored orbs and steadily rolled down his cheeks before he hastily wiped them away with his shoulder. That dream completely terrified him, but not for the reasons that one might assume. No, it scared him because he'd witnessed it happen to someone else, and not just _any_ someone else. The event depicted in James' dream had happened to one of his best friends – Carlos.

_It was James' idea to spend that afternoon surfing. He was well aware that the water was a bit violent that day, but he and Carlos had been surfing together countless times before, so he didn't think anything of it. After about half an hour of surfing, James decided that he wanted a bite to eat. Much to his dismay, Carlos insisted on staying in the water. However, James concluded that Carlos was a grown man and he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Besides, he knew that he wouldn't be gone for very long. Moments later, James was walking back towards the water when he saw a very treacherous wave headed right for Carlos. He tried to call out, but the boy wasn't paying attention. The wave knocked Carlos off his board, and his head made contact with the coral reef. James immediately rushed into the water and mounted his board, swimming as fast as he could to Carlos. He had to save his best friend; he just had to. He finally reached his friend after what seemed like an eternity, and James easily pulled him up onto his own surf board. He paddled back to shore and tried to revive Carlos, but to no avail. It was too late._

James finally forced the tears to subside, and he pushed the memory of his best friend from his mind. James hadn't been back in the water since that day, and he absolutely refused to set foot near the beach. Even the mere feeling of the warm sand between his toes caused images of Carlos to flash in his mind. He just couldn't deal with the pain and guilt of it all. He hadn't been able to face it then, and he certainly couldn't face it now.

James reluctantly climbed out of bed and made his way to his bedroom door as he subconsciously scratched the back of his head. His hair was much shorter now than it'd been when he was a member of the popular band Big Time Rush, and there were often times when James didn't feel like even combing his hair, which was a big change from the time when he was "the face".

Needless to say, James' life had changed drastically. Soon after Carlos' death, James quit Big Time Rush, chopped off all of his hair, and locked himself in his apartment. He also severed his friendship with Logan and Kendall, simply because he couldn't bear to look at them without feeling an immense amount of guilt. Carlos had been their best friend, too, and James' frivolous and stupid idea had taken him away from them. James couldn't look at a corn dog without bawling, so it had made absolute sense to him to end things with the other two males.

He exited his bedroom and wandered into the living room, his hazel eyes taking in his surroundings. Once the guys had all turned eighteen, they'd decided to get separate apartments, but in the same building. They'd each managed to take a little piece from their Palm Woods apartment and put it in their own apartments, and James had taken the swirly slide. He remembered arguing with Carlos about who should be allowed to take the swirly slide, because both boys had been incredibly fond of it. It had been one of their most stupid arguments, but they'd been teenage boys at the time, and neither of them had ever really had to deal with anything serious. It'd made sense to be so adamant and stubborn about something so minuscule. However, once Carlos died, James took down the slide. Well, that's an understatement. He completely destroyed the slide out of anger, frustration, guilt, and sorrow.

A small smile momentarily lit up his features when he saw his girlfriend asleep on the couch. James had been with Veronica for the past year and a half, and she was the first person that had succeeded in getting through to him since his best friend's death. For the longest time, James had been closed off to the world. He'd become a hermit – a recluse – and he'd completely shut himself away in his apartment. The truth was, he'd been too afraid to face the outside world and to come to terms with what he did. He wasn't positive how she'd managed to break down those steel walls that he'd built around himself, but she'd been exactly what he needed. He still needed her.

He perked his left brow in curiosity when he at last spotted the envelope lying on the coffee table that sat next to the couch. It appeared to be an invitation of some sort, and it was addressed to Mr. James Diamond. He carefully opened it and read and re-read the contents approximately three times. It was inviting him to the three-year anniversary "gathering" of Carlos' death. What the hell was a "gathering"? Was that a more appropriate way of saying "party"? Who in their right mind would have a party for the anniversary of a person's death, regardless of who that person was? James obviously didn't understand the whole "celebrate the person's life" concept, and he found it absolutely abysmal.

Wait…Had it already been three years? James' memory of that day was so vivid and his feelings were still very raw and intense that it could've happened the day before. It shocked him to recall that Carlos had only been twenty years old at the time; he hadn't even been old enough to legally buy himself alcohol. James had snatched the poor boy's life away, or at least that's the way that James saw it. He fully and whole-heartedly took every ounce of blame for what occurred, and he tuned out anyone who tried to tell him otherwise.

James Diamond was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice that his girlfriend had woken up. Veronica sat up and snatched the invitation from James' hand, quickly reading its contents. Veronica had always been an optimistic person, and she definitely understood the concept of celebrating a person's life. In fact, she thought that the three-year anniversary gathering was a brilliant idea. Veronica had never personally met Carlos, but there were times when James had had a little too much to drink, and he'd start telling her about all these things that he and Carlos had done together. Veronica had gotten to know Carlos through James' stories and the stories of others, and it hadn't taken her long to come to the conclusion that she and Carlos would've gotten along swimmingly.

"**You're going."** the redheaded female said softly, in that light, flower-like voice of hers that so many people envied. James went to argue, but she silenced him by leaning up towards him and swiftly pressing her lips to his. She pulled back a moment later and gazed at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of emotion. **"You have to face this, James."** she insisted, before gently biting her lower lip.

James knew that he had lost. There was no way that he could defy the one person that loved him and had stuck by his side through the last year and a half of depression, anger issues, nightmares, and alcoholism. James gave a defeated sigh, and lightly nodded his head, giving in.


End file.
